An Artist’s Life

Amanda Palmer-The Art of Asking — From ‘The Art of Asking,’ by Amanda Palmer

Ever had that feeling of being lost? The frustration of not being able to be as good as you want to be? I know I’ve had that feeling – still do, but that’s when we need words like these. To calm the soul, to assure us that it’s all going to be fine. Because everyone’s gone through it. Every artist faces a point where he or she’s torn between scarcity and abundance.

Art doesn’t make money grow on trees; we all know that. And we still choose to do it.

What do we hope for, when we continue to create art despite knowing that it might only lead us down poverty’s path?

Are we hoping for the next best seller? The cover image of a popular art magazine? The headlines of the reputed news channel that no one but the rich have the time to while away on?

Hell yes! Every artist hopes for recognition. And abundance.

But these’s more…

It’s not just the glitter that we’re after. We create art, because we have to. Because knowing that you want to be an artist and not working on it, is like burying all your dreams and accepting a hideous mask in this already two-faced world.

And as artists, we can’t do that.

So we create art instead – the only thing we can do to stay sane. Such art comes from the heart; it’s raw, it’s fresh and it connects with its audience.

And once we’ve reached that point, the glitter follows.

It’s a beautiful life, an artist’s. And Amanda Palmer has beautifully phrased it in her book, ‘The Art of Asking.’ I haven’t read the book, but after reading a few excerpts, the book’s now on my list. If you enjoyed this excerpt, you might want to check out another one I shared sometime ago, also from the same book.

P.S: The image is a screenshot from Brain Pickings Weekly (with their signature yellow quotation mark.)

Hopefully Happy?

So, the third of January – I don’t know about you guys, but my new year hasn’t got off to the best of starts.

What started as general health checkup, landed me in some gut-wrenching tests. Apart from the money we’ve spent, (which is quite a lot, considering I’m neither anemic nor mad) it’s the waste of it all that annoys me.

The medical industry is one of the highest earning industries. Not just in India, but anywhere, money speaks. And the more you have, the more likely you are of falling fatally ill.

Not to mention the mental stress involved. Commuting from one hospital to another, carrying a file each, for your primary doctor, as well as all the others they referred to, carrying a bulk of cash receipts that lightened your purse but weigh heavily on your chest, having to look at the dejected faces of the other patients – it’s like voluntarily spending money and time to get nothing but torture in return.

“Better safe than sorry”

They all say it. But that kind of safety is still as painful as being sorry. Some things are just that way, and I don’t have a solution. Which just makes this post a completely pointless rant.

What a year this is turning out to be!

Now That’s the Kind of City I’d Love to Live In

I recently went on a family trip to Pondicherry. I know they say Pondy isn’t a place for family, but that’s just the common notion.

If you spend only a couple of days, relaxing and doing nothing else, Pondy — with its beach an all — is a great holiday spot. Of course, not to mention it’s the hottest spot for booze when you’re with friends.

That said, I was impressed with how the people of the city manage to maintain discipline and decorum despite the thronging crowds. Here and there, are posters and banners that prompt people to “keep the city clean.” And surprisingly, unlike in the case of other despicable Indian cities, people heed these posters. Perhaps the presence of such a vast foriegn populous is also a reason. That’s how people are; no matter how unclean they are on the inside, they want to put up a show of divinity in front of strangers.

Human blunder.

But Pondy’s more than just a clean city. It’s the kind of city I’d want to live in. And that doesn’t happen often. We stayed at a hotel on the beach road, overlooking the ocean. It was a great experience, sitting on the balcony, staring at the waves crashing on rocks.

Seeing the waves, you can’t help but wonder at the lack of vehicles on that road. That’s because the government regulates traffic in a way that I’ve never seen anywhere before.

All vehicles, including motorcycles, should move out of beach road before 6 pm. Every evening, they have a truck moving around the street warning vehicle owners and the general public to move their vehicles out of the street. Any vehicles that violate the regulation will be locked and will be released only after 11 pm — with a court petition.

This is a safety measure for the civilians who visit the beach after the peak hour of 6 pm. The best part is that this drill is extended ‘till 7.30 am the following morning. And it’s not a vain attempt either; the beach is filled with enthusiasts during the late nights — though it does get a little quieter after about 11 pm. But there are a lot of early-risers embracing a fitness regime, as early as 5 am.

It’s one of the greatest thrills of life, to wake up to the mild noise of crashing waves, watching the sun rise, rather reluctantly, out of the clouds. And to witness all these without the smoky and noisy vehicles zooming by.

Pondicherry is a great place. The government doesn’t urge its people to “get to the safety of their homes before nightfall.” Instead, they make the city safe enough so that people can enjoy their freedom without compromising their wishes. (You can’t sit in the Chennai beaches after 10 or 11 pm; the police will get way too dutiful.)

Now that’s the kind of city I’d want to live in. I know it’s difficult to bring this control to the rest of the city, but just the beach is enough — for a start.

Pondicherry made me feel welcome; it gave me a sense of belonging. And the warmth that spread through my veins as I looked on at the beach, is something I’ve never experienced before.

It’s an experience of a lifetime.

What’s your choice?

When it comes to words of wisdom, she’s now my go-to person. It’s pretty amazing how whatever she’s written is so relatable. It’s like she’s seen right through you and spoken the very words that you would cringe to admit. I don’t know about you guys, but I sure have found myself in the “in between” point that Sylvia mentions. I’ve been torn between the choice of being happy and the undeniable circumstances of mourning.

In fact, when you pay enough attention to it, there’s a lot to worry about. Work, family, health, debt, duties… it’s an endless list. And these are mostly sad instances. There’s nothing joyful about work pressure, or health issues.

But then, there’s the choice.

Isn’t it better to be happy about earning enough to enjoy a great movie at the theatre with corn that’s popped to perfection, than worry about being constantly picked on at work? But it’s not always the option we’d opt for; we’d usually get stuck “in between.”

And that’s where we need to make a conscious choice. It’s either happiness or sadness – because even introspective sadness has a calming effect on the soul, whereas indecisiveness is just a complete fiasco.

Seasonal Spirit

Sprits high, nigh uncatchable…
Christmas, most say.
Humbug, some declare.

Who cares?
Rum’s gone.

Merry Christmas, folks!

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